


A Dream Come to Light

by windbloom



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Happy Ending, POV Alternating, Retelling, Subtext, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-05-20 00:08:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14883888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windbloom/pseuds/windbloom
Summary: The nightmares, the ones where Elsa could feel her own magic striking Anna and sending her sister sliding across the icy ballroom, hadn’t stopped. Waking up shivering, in a cold sweat tinged with an aura of freezing water vapor, all she had been able to do was cry. After the tears, she felt nothing, and then, as the sun rose, she had come up with a solution. Her father had thought to close the gates to protect her from others, but Elsa knew the truth that even he didn’t yet realize. The gates had to be closed to protect other people from her.





	1. Chapter 1

Elsa took a deep breath in, her eyes fluttering closed as the spring breeze washed over her, pushing short strands of blonde hair across her forehead. Feeling the warm air fill her lungs was wonderful. She opened her eyes and looked out across the fjord. The sun shone brightly against the sparkling blue water. Gulls flew overhead. 

She looked down at the small pile of books she had carried with her. Most of them were either fairy tales or history picture-books, read so much that the covers were worn and ragged. 

The upper balcony of the grand ballroom was one of her favorite places to read. The ballroom itself had always drawn her attention. With all the doors open, it was one of the brightest rooms in the entire castle.  She could have stayed in her room to read, but she much preferred being outside and basking in the sunlight. Her mother and father seemed to think it was a good idea, too.

Elsa looked down as she lifted an empty hand. She rubbed her thumb against her forefingers idly. She could feel the magic,  _ her  _ magic, resting beneath the surface. It would only take the simplest of thoughts to let it free. As she flexed her fingers she looked up into the cloudless sky, a deep sapphire brightening to blinding azure at the horizon. She wondered what it would look like, for snow to fall in spring. How might the sunlight shine through the crystalline snowflakes as they floated ever downwards?

_ Magic must be kept secret. _

The thought of her father’s concerned voice settled Elsa back into to the present.  She let her hand drop gently to her side. She had no issue with obeying her parent’s reasonable request to keep her magic hidden from others. She was, after all, her father’s daughter, princess of Arendelle, and heir to the throne. She had responsibilities. 

And soon, she would be an older sister.

Elsa wondered then what it meant to be an older sister? How should she act? What was expected of her? She had tried to ask such questions to her parents and tutors, but neither party was as forthcoming as she would have liked. This lack of information concerned Elsa. Would she be prepared?

Still, she couldn’t help but admit to feeling a spark of excitement, rising in her chest like a flame; lighting her up from the inside out. She was going to be an  _ older sister _ . Would she get a baby brother, or a baby sister? She contemplated both possibilities, and settled her heart in hopes of a baby girl. The two of them would be much more alike, probably they would have tea together, study history together, read books together, hide bits of steamed broccoli under the dining hall’s rug together. The castle’s halls, as bustling as they sometimes were, got a little lonely sometimes, and it would certainly be nice to have someone closer to her own age.

A little sister.  A little princess, just like her. 

Elsa could hardly wait.

 

* * *

 

After a nearly month-long campaign to get him to talk, Elsa had finally managed to get her father to tell her more about her powers.

He had been in his study, looking up at the picture of himself on Coronation Day. He didn’t usually stare up at it, which made Elsa feel like he was purposefully avoiding her gaze. 

“Elsa,” Her father started as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his waistcoat, “we’ve been on this line of inquiry before, and I’ve said you must wait until you’re older.”

“But I  _ am  _ older,” Elsa replied with confidence, “by two weeks, and one day!”

Her father sighed and ran a hand through his short red hair, but Elsa noticed that he was smiling. She pressed further. “And I promise once you tell me, I’ll stop asking.”

He turned his head towards her, looking down at her as she stood with her hands behind her back. At first, she thought he might be cross, but his eyes had softened, and the smile remained. He bent down to one knee, and Elsa gasped and ran forward. Story time!

“You’ve had your powers since birth,” he began, his voice was quiet and gentle and kind. Elsa might have felt relaxed if her heart weren’t bursting at the chance to learn more about her mysterious powers. It took everything for her to keep quiet and not ask a million questions all at once.

“You were just a baby, the first time it happened,” he paused, lifting his head and looking off into the distance, “You were hungry, and you had started to cry. Your mother saw you first, with a frozen tear upon your cheek,” and at this, he reached down to poke a finger teasingly at Elsa’s cheek. “Right here.” Elsa’s eyes lit up, and she laughed at the thought of magical tears.

“At first, your mother checked the windows. It had been such a cold start to winter, and she thought maybe there had been a draft in the nursery,” he smiled to himself, “But then we saw it happen with our own eyes. Your tears were turning to ice.”

“Really?” Elsa said in awe, unable to contain herself. With the way her father spoke, it was almost as if he was reading from a book of fairy tales.

“Really,” he replied as one big hand squeezed her shoulder. “You’ve always been surprising us with that special part of you.”

Special.

That’s what her magic was. That’s what  _ she  _ was. Her magic wasn’t something to show off to strangers or share with the outside world. This special thing was something she shared with her mother and father, and them alone. She had to protect it.

“You don’t have to worry, father,” she said suddenly, straightening up as her expression went quite serious, “I’ll keep my powers a secret.”

Her father paused, looking slightly taken aback by her sudden change of tone, but in the next moment his smile was as big and warm as a flowerfield during summer. 

“That’s my Elsa,” he replied warmly, and proudly, “You’ll make a fine Queen, one day.”

 

* * *

 

“Will my little sister have powers like me?”

“Sister?” Her mother was sitting in a chair in the nursery, knitting the tiniest pair of mittens.

“Oh, well, I thought she might be a girl.” Elsa said matter-of-factly as she looked at the rise of her mother’s stomach with an appraising glance. “Can you tell yet?”

Her mother smiled, seeming very near to laughing as she set down her knitting and rested one delicate hand upon her stomach. “Not just yet, but we’ll know soon enough. Now, what was this about powers?”

“Well I thought, since I’ve had mine since birth, maybe…” Elsa paused, looking at her mother’s belly, and then her train of thought shifted. “Can she… hear us?”

“Come here, Elsa,” Her mother reached out for her, and Elsa hurried over to take her hand, looking up into her eyes.

“You’re excited for the baby, aren’t you? I know you’ll be a wonderful older sister.”

“On my honor,” Elsa confirmed. The phrase had been something she had heard her father say in his more official capacity as King of Arendelle.

Her mother smiled deeply. “I love you, Elsa.”

“I love you too,” Elsa replied, feeling that familiar warmth in her chest as she leaned in to give her mother a hug.

 

* * *

 

It had been an unspoken rule between her and her parents that Elsa shouldn’t do magic in front of her baby sister. Elsa hadn’t really had the time to think about it, as there had been much to do after the birth, and she had been so curious about what having a sister would be like that the question of what to do about her magic never came up. It just wasn’t something she had bothered worrying about.

As time passed, and to Elsa’s slight dismay, she found that Anna was turning out to be not at all similar to herself. She noticed that on a few occasions she had caught herself almost doing magic in front of Anna, but she was quick to control it. Magic must be kept a secret, and besides, her magic wasn’t meant for fun. 

A thought had occurred to her then, as she climbed into the carriage that would soon set off to the royal Summer House.  _ What was her magic for? _

The question bothered her all throughout the trip, but she was thankful for Anna’s explosive personality. Anna was having a blast, just playing with Elsa. Just Elsa. No magic required.

And of course, the first time it happened was on that very trip. Elsa had gone out into the flower field. The tall flowers rose almost to her shoulders, and there was a strong wind rising up from the south.

“Elsaaaa!”

Elsa stopped, raising her head and then turning in one flowing motion. Anna was running towards her; dolls in hand, with one of her small pigtails nearly undone. The dolls had been a gift from their parents last Christmas, and already they were nearly bursting at the seams. Elsa made a note to ask her mother about learning how to sew them once they returned to the castle.

“Wow, look at all the flowers,” Anna exclaimed as she spun in a circle, as if to try looking at each and every one all at once.

Elsa’s smile grew wider as she lifted a basket she had in her arms. “I’m picking some for mother. Want to help?”

Anna was more than ready to help. The two of them walked through the field, discussing what might make the best type of flower. They talked about Elsa’s favorite flower, Alstroemeria. Anna tried a few times to pronounce it and then gave up. Then Elsa helped Anna decide what her favorite flower was. She looked up, and asked what the warmest flower was, and Elsa said that would probably be a sunflower. 

Anna insisted that because she was a big girl, she should be the one to carry the flower basket. Elsa begrudgingly agreed. It was hard for her to say no to Anna sometimes. Elsa followed behind, smiling proudly as her little sister led the way. Anna took them deep into the flower field, singing and humming about sunflowers the entire way. 

“If the basket is starting to get heavy I can carry it,” Elsa offered, allowing only the slightest amount of concern to tinge her tone.

“I got it!” Anna replied cheerfully as she attempted to lift the basket higher with both her arms while turning to show Elsa that she did indeed “have it”, but the sudden change of direction was too much, and she stumbled as she lost her balance.

Elsa rushed forward to catch her, but she couldn’t quite break her sister’s fall. Anna fell face first into the russet-colored dirt. Elsa bent down to help her up.

“Anna, you’ve got to be more careful,” Elsa chided, and she felt in that moment an overflowing sense of protectiveness for her little sister. She squeezed Anna’s shoulder as she helped her stand upright. “You’re covered in dirt!”

Anna had been so surprised that she didn’t react right away, and at first Elsa was afraid that she might start to cry, but then Anna’s eyes went bright and she started to laugh. Her laughter was infectious, and soon Elsa couldn’t help but join in. She was feeling giddy. It was so nice, to just laugh.

And then it happened. 

It happened so quickly, and in such a small way, that Elsa didn’t even realize what had happened at first. It was Anna’s sudden hushed gasp that drew her attention, and when she followed her sister’s wide-eyed gaze, she saw it. Wisps of sparkling snow and ice, fluttering lazily in the breeze. Elsa’s heart sank.

“...Whoa…” Anna's voice was low; in awe as she reached a small hand up to try to grab at the flurry as it drifted off into the distance. “Elsa… that was… ”

“It’s… I’m…” but Elsa didn’t have the words. She hadn’t prepared for this. She could feel her skin going hot with panic. What would Anna think of her, now?

“AMAZING!” Anna jumped forward, hugging Elsa around the middle. “You’re the most magical sister ever!”

It was all so strange. The rushing, tumultuous feeling of guilt for having let her secret slip, sliding down to settle in the pit of her stomach, mixed with the airy lightheaded feeling of being praised, both feelings competing for Elsa’s attention all at once. 

That’s when everything changed for Elsa. Changed for the better. The guilt and the shame and the stifling feeling of suppressing her powers melted away, and all that was left was Anna’s voice; her laughter, and her smile. Elsa’s question about what her powers were for had been answered, in the most unlikely way possible. Her magic was for  _ fun _ . It was meant to be shared, and maybe even someday... with everyone, but as long as there was one person in her life who she could let in, that’s all that mattered. That was all she needed. 

As she got older, Anna became more and more enthralled by Elsa’s magic. She always wanted to see more, and Elsa, having never thought much about it before, had an earnest interest in what her powers could do. What  _ she  _ could do.

_ The magic one is  _ you,  _ Anna. _

Elsa thought the words, smiling to herself as she lay in bed, staring up at the high ceiling. She couldn’t sleep again. She couldn’t stop thinking about tomorrow, and the new trick she wanted to try. She had been practicing creating pillars of snow, and she was getting pretty good at controlling them. She wanted Anna to see. A pang of shame struck her as she realized how silly she was being. Did she really have to be such a showoff? She shook her head and pushed herself onto her side, facing the window. 

The sky was awake. She watched as the deep reds and green trails of light mixed before the purple night’s sky. It was beautiful, and it wasn’t long before she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

 

 

After the  _ accident _ , it was Elsa who had come up with the idea to lock herself within her room.

Anna had been asleep for almost two days by that point. The trolls had assured the king and queen of Anna’s safety, and for all purposes she looked as if she was just having a peaceful sleep. Elsa had stood on the threshold to their room, refusing to go forward despite her parent’s insistence. They said it would be okay, but how true could that be? As her small hand gripped the entranceway, her knuckles went white.

Elsa didn’t trust herself to get any closer.

And so, that night, at the family table during dinner, facing the one empty seat, Elsa spoke of her plan.

“Keeping the gate closed won’t be enough,” the words left her lips and she felt her expression tightening. She tried not to let her face twist into something too close to despair. She knew that if she wanted her parents to listen to her, she would need to keep it together.

She pushed a piece of broccoli around on her plate, casting her gaze downwards. She was waiting for her parents to react. She must have caught both of them completely off guard, because her mother immediately went still, tensing up in a way that Elsa had never seen before, and her father nearly dropped his fork.

“Elsa,” her father began, and despite the surprised raise of his brows, his voice was caring and warm, and very nearly pleading. Elsa didn’t let him finish.

“It would be best if I stayed in my room.”

_ Away from Anna. _

The thought of it, the sudden realization of what she was planning to do, struck her like a slap. 

“Elsa, that’s not necessary,” her mother’s voice dripped with concern, and the sight of her worried look, and the way her hand rose fractionally, as if to put her hand over her mouth, only strengthened Elsa’s resolve.

“I’ll have less distractions, focusing on controlling my powers will be easier.”

_ I won’t hurt anyone. _

Everything she said was so logical; so direct. Her parents both stared at her, and for the first time in her life they had nothing to say in response. This realization produced a sudden small smile. She hated herself for it even as she could feel her lips twitching upwards, but she could feel that the smile wasn’t reaching her eyes.

“It’s for the best,” her words fell down and spread along the table like mist.

_ This is just what I deserve. _

“Are you sure about this?” Her father asked, sitting up a little straighter.

Elsa nodded. Of course, in truth, in that moment she had been terrified, and she felt sick to her stomach having to lie to the people who loved her the most. But how could she tell them? How would they have been able to understand? And what power did they have, to help her?  _ To stop her? _

“If you’re sure,” Elsa heard her mother’s words distantly as her own thoughts rose from the depths to cloud her head.

Elsa was very sure. The nightmares, the ones where she could feel her own magic striking Anna and sending her sliding across the icy ballroom, hadn’t stopped. Waking up shivering, in a cold sweat tinged with an aura of freezing water vapor, all she had been able to do was cry. After the tears, she felt nothing, and then, as the sun rose, she had come up with a solution. Her father had thought to close the gates to protect her from others, but Elsa knew the truth that even he didn’t yet realize. The gates had to be closed to protect other people from  _ her _ .

Still, despite everything, she had hope. Hope for the future. A dream of what might be. She would work hard. She would learn to control her magic. Her  _ curse _ . That’s what the troll had called it, hadn’t he? Her parents would be there for her. She wouldn’t hurt Anna again. Things would get better.  _ She  _ would get better.


	2. Chapter 2

There was no reason for Anna to not feel happy. No reason at all. She had a whole life ahead of her, and a warm drink at the side of her bed, and she was tucked into the covers, and the sight of the gently falling snow snow at her window was tender and sure. It was morning. There was an entire day left to enjoy. 

_ It’s snowing! _

She heard her own words, the words of a child, echo in her mind like the threads of an unraveling tapestry, and despite herself, she couldn’t help but feel deflated.

“It’s snowing.”

She said the words, and her voice seemed older, and wiser… and hollow. Unfeeling in its astute acknowledgement. It’s  _ just  _ snowing. There was nothing more to it. As the words in one of her books had said, it was simply atmospheric water vapor frozen into ice crystals and falling in light white flakes.

Anna rolled off her bed, onto the floor. She lay there, quite still, looking up at the high white ceiling. 

“It’s snowing,” she repeated, a second time, in hopes that the words might spark something more. She waited, holding her breath, until she could wait no longer.

Without a doubt, it was snowing. But that was it. There wasn’t anything else.

Anna turned her head to the side, looking out her bedroom window as one crystalline snowflake after another fell, gliding past the window and sometimes into it, and piling up like so many solitary thoughts. Soon, there would be nothing left but white.

She wondered then if Elsa was watching this snowfall, and how she might feel as her own lone window went from clear to covered. Elsa. Her sister. Her family. And yet, someone as far apart from her as the glimmer of the sun’s light against the peak of the North Mountain. A blinding light she wasn’t meant to witness. An explosion of cold morning dew, struck from the sky to disappear from her own sight; reducing Anna’s vibrant echoing memories to dimly lit darkness. The memory of a dream. And there, in the falling mist, was Elsa’s smile. The curve of her lips. The gentle kindness of her eyes as she helped Anna roll a snowball in her small, mittened hands.

_ It’s snowing. _

Anna wondered, as she stared into the night’s sky, why those words meant so much to her.

 

* * *

 

_ It’s snowing. _

The thought of those words fell upon Elsa’s heart like spikes of ice. The first snowfall of winter had come so soon. Of course it would snow. Why wouldn’t it? It was only natural, after all. So why did it hurt so much?

Her own desperate questions were left answered when the memories flooded in, one after another, each one more unbearable than the last. Anna’s bright eyes and infectious smile. Her small hands upon packed snow. Her shining laughter, breaking through across the ballroom, pounding inside Elsa’s own ears until the memories went from memories to just feelings. The feeling of Anna’s attention. Her admiration. Her affection.

Elsa shook her head, forcing the feelings out and away, and in doing so her gaze went from outwards to inwards as her focused on her own reflection in the window glass. Her hair, tightly coiled up in a braid of her own design, and the way her collar pulled up snug against her neck, helped to calm her. But then she saw her eyes, the icy blue, cold, frightening turquoise of them, as empty as a winter’s darkening sky, and her heart dropped deep into her stomach. 

It would never cease to startle her, when she felt the chilling spark of her magic against her fingertips, looking down to find a shining layer of ice against the windowsill. Eyes widening, she stepped back. Startled, and in no small part critical of her own faltering resolve, she berated herself, eyes slamming shut, teeth clenching, as her heart went hurtling deep into solitary submission.

_ Don’t feel. _

And then, her rapid breathing would subside, and she would feel the weight of her gloves against her skin, and everything would come back into focus. The moon hung low in the purple night’s sky, and the snow fell gently, insistently. She would manage. She would persevere. For her mother and father. For Anna.  _ For Anna. _

After all, what other choice did she have?

 

* * *

 

Anna would be lying to say that, even after all these years, she didn’t still consider visiting Elsa’s door. It was, after all, the first snowfall of the season. She held in her heart the hope that this year, things would be different. This year, something would change. This year, as Anna crept up to that familiar door, there wouldn’t just be silence. And despite everything, Anna brought a hand to her chest, holding on to the fabric of her dress front as she wondered how it might feel, to hear the lock disengage, and the sound of the door against fabric, a slight creak as it opened. Elsa would be there, waiting patiently, and she would open her mouth, and say…

Well, what would she say? This scene wasn’t one she had read in all the many books in the royal library, nor had she seen it in the brushstrokes of any of the paintings hanging in her favorite room of the castle.

Speaking of paintings, she decided then to take a visit to say hello to some of her old friends. The clouds outside were darkening her room, even though it was day time. In the castle hallways there was a stifling feeling, like being trapped beneath a blanket pulled too tight. She hurried through the halls, purposefully avoiding  _ that  _ hallway. She knew all the shortcuts, by now. The painting room (her father insisted there was an official name, but she had never bothered learning it) didn’t have windows, so it would be a perfect place for a reprieve.

The silence of the room always kinda miffed her, so she usually started talking as soon as she stepped inside. This time it was different. She didn’t say a word as she walked past those all too familiar faces, and it was only until she stood in the very middle of the room, looking around the vast display of artistic skill, that she finally started to converse.

“Did’ja miss me?”

Her voice sounded uncharacteristically restrained. She looked up. The paintings, most of whom did not look back, were just the same as ever, and Anna couldn’t help but feel unnerved.

“I got a new dress yesterday!”

Silence. Of course, it was always like this, and it hadn’t ever bothered Anna before. So why did it feel so different this time? She glanced around, trying not to focus on the way that even the colors of the paints seemed duller than before, and pressed on.

“It’s a pretty good dress.”

_ But no one’s going to get to see it.  _

“Okay, that’s it,” She said angrily, to no one but herself. “I don’t  _ need  _ to feel like this. So just, get over it! So it’s a dreary, lifeless, gloomy day. So  _ what _ ?”

She strode over in a huff, stopping in front of ol’ Joan.

“I’ve just gotta get over it. Right, Joan?”

Joan was Anna’s biggest confidant. It had been a godsend, to stumble upon the painting room at such an early age. It had been quite soon after… Elsa’s departure. Anna had so many questions, and even if Joan didn’t give her any answers, at least she didn’t tell her to stop asking. 

Joan knew a lot. She knew how much joy Elsa had brought Anna during their childhood, outside the castle grounds in the snow, playing and laughing. She knew how much Anna had idolized her older sister. She would be queen someday, after all, and beyond that, she had been so… cool and collected. Nothing at all like Anna. Joan even knew all about that day that Elsa closed the door.

But Joan didn’t know  _ why _ .

“You’re right, I’m being dramatic. I’ve probably been reading too many love stories or something.”

That was another one of Anna’s favorite ways to spend her time. The royal library was in great supply of reading material, and Anna had spent hours cultivating a section that contained all her favorite stories. 

True love. That was what she would spend hours upon hours researching. Her reading speed had gone from slow to prolific during the span of a single summer. Scouring the pages for that one special feeling. The end game. The final solution. _ True love. _

For as special a thing as true love was, there was not a shortage of supply in the Romance genre, and Anna felt thankful at the prospect of having enough reading material to last her on those longest and loneliest of days. The days where Anna wanted nothing more than to sleep, and let the day end. To start anew. To begin again.

“It’s just that, today feels different. Like something’s off.” Her voice trailed off, and she stood there in stillness, feeling the small rise and fall of her chest as she breathed in and out. She let her eyes slide closed as a memory rose to the surface of her mind.

They had been picking flowers. It was summer. The sun was so hot, and the flowers were in full bloom. She had fallen; her new dress covered in dirt. Had she been about to cry? But then there was Elsa, coming in close to give her a comforting hug. The warmth of it was  _ amazing _ . Elsa cared for her. Elsa would always be there for her.

So why wasn’t she here, now?

“I don’t know why I’m so down. Probably... just getting to be that time of the month!” Anna said quickly, forcing the words out so that she didn’t have to think anymore. “That’s the worst, right Joan?”

That’s right. This moment would pass. The sun was still there, just behind the clouds. And soon. the sky would clear. Nothing lasts forever. Why should she dwell on it? What was the use of worrying?

That’s all it took. She was smiling again, skipping out of the painting room and into the hall with a renewed purpose. As she passed a menacing row of suits of armor on display, she stopped in front of one. She looked up at the empty suit’s closed visor, and a small smile appeared on her face. She lifted one of the heavy gloves with both hands, shaking it gently.

“Arendelle thanks you for your service, _ sir knight _ .” She says liltingly, giving a knowing, sidelong glance in full theatrical display. “The war’s won. The battle’s over. Everyone’s back home, enjoying a hard earned peace. Will you... be going back to your family, then?” She asked, with some mock hesitation, batting her eyelashes all the while.

“Oh, you’re  _ single _ ? My, what a surprise!” Anna tilted her head back to give an appraising head-to-foot glance at the stationary set of armor. “I would have never guessed.”

“Say,” she leaned forward, lifting herself up onto the tips of her toes so that her face was much closer to the polished, reflective visor, “There’s a ball tomorrow night. Does the hand of Arendelle’s youngest princess sound inviting?” Her voice went thick with playful seduction, just  like she imagined it sounded in all her many books.

“Oh? You can’t?” She said, voice dropping, eyebrows knitting, “You have to…  _ stand guard _ ?” 

And with that, she burst out laughing at her own horrible joke; the fact that it was horrible just making her laugh even harder. The gloved hand dropped back to the knight’s side as she let go and ran off down the hall. 

The day seemed so much brighter now, as Anna made her way through the castle. She would say hello to father, and see if she could do anything to help mother. All she needed was a little push in the right direction, and as long as she kept up her momentum she would surely sail across any storm.

 

* * *

 

At night, Elsa made the voyage out of her room. 

She had forcibly altered her sleeping schedule to allow for this, as it was impossible to try sneaking out during the day lest she risk a chance meeting with Anna. She had suggested the sleeping schedule adjustment herself, and her father had gone along with it. She wondered if, at this point, he would listen and agree to almost any of her recommendations. She could be so demanding and direct when they spoke, a result of her own unbearable anxiety. He must think that it was  _ she  _ who knew and understood her predicament best.  _ Oh, how wrong he was. _ Elsa smiled achingly to herself as she gingerly pushed the door to her room ajar, just enough to fit her small frame through it. 

Years had passed since her self-prescribed confinement, and after all that time and practice and yearning, nothing had really changed. She still couldn’t control her powers. If anything, as she grew in strength of body, she lost her very own strength of mind, and the hope she had carried with her at the start was fading beneath the rising storm within her heart. 

Her own fraying emotions were as brittle as frosted glass, and any crack in the facade could lead to a sudden outburst of uncontrollably terrifying icy blasts or the biting roar of a snowy gale. Sometimes, it wasn’t even violent at all; just a freezing numbness that expanded outwards from her center, hardening everything around her to cold, dead crystal. This, all because of a feeling, or a thought. Happy or sad; it didn’t matter. This strong surge of her magic came sometimes out of nowhere at all; as if simply _ living  _ were enough to cause it.

_ It’s getting stronger. _

Her  _ magic _ , icy cold as it was, reminded Elsa of a candle’s flame, hungry and desperate and fighting for air. The irony of this analogy was not lost on her. Any little thing might cause it to grow, and with despair Elsa realized that her own forlorn dread of it even happening only pushed her further, spiraling ever downward. What would it take for her to extinguish that cold flame?

_ Conceal… _

Even her special words were starting to lose their power. Oh, How wonderful they had been, at the start. A boon that Elsa held on to as tightly as her gloves. If only she could go back to the first few months. She and her father had been so bright-eyed and confident.

It was years ago. Anna was still very much a child, and Elsa, well… Elsa had compelled herself to grow up. She chose darker hues of blue over her usual light ones. She decorated her room with all the trappings of adulthood and the toy box had found a new use as a glove container. There wasn’t time to play, with so much work to be done.

Her father had come to her room towards sunset. She had been at the window, watching as the sun dropped towards the horizon, turning the emptying streets of Arendelle’s market district a brilliant umber. She waited silently. The sun would be gone soon, and in night’s darkening embrace she would begin her studies. She had been learning, after all. Learning to control her magic; to control herself. She lived each day in those early years in constant contemplation. She looked forward to practicing. She had goals.

_ Things will change. _

Her father knocked. By now, she knew everyone’s sounds by heart. Her father’s strong insistent knocks. Her mother’s tentative, murmuring pats. And Anna’s hopeful, searching taps. So she didn’t turn, as the door clicked to open. He had a key, of course. Her mother did too. There had been an initial discussion, on whether or not to lock the door. All three of them agreed that yes, eventually, as Anna grew older, she might become more bold, and so the lock seemed necessary. By this time, Elsa felt a certain comfort at the protective presence of the lock.

“Elsa,” her father stepped inside. The room was darkening. Elsa had meant to light the candles, but she now found herself raising her head as a cloud of distraction dissipated. How long had she been watching the sun set? She turned, smiling as she stepped forward. She had had a good day. In fact, she had been having a good week. She had been in control. She felt capable and stable. She felt… like herself.

“Hello, papa,” she replied, watching as he stepped into the room. He had a package with him, which he set down upon the dresser as he busied himself with lighting a few candles.

“I’ve brought something for you,” he started, and Elsa tilted her head as she caught on to the hopeful excitement in his voice.

“Is it… chocolate?” Elsa asked, unable to stop her smile from growing wider. She was feeling good today, so why shouldn’t she let that feeling carry her where it may? Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time one of her parents had brought her a sweet treat from the kitchens. 

“Not quite,” The King’s words were gallant and proud. He was really excited, and this feeling rubbed off an Elsa in a way that she hadn’t expected. She took a few tentative steps closer as her father picked the box back up and knelt down so their gazes would be level. Elsa leaned forward, barely able to wait as his hands rested upon the thin lip of the rectangular box lid. Slowly, he pulled the top off.

Gloves. A light blue fabric, beautifully patterned in Arendelle’s regal insignia. So many pairs of them, sitting within the confines of the box. Elsa stared down, and then slowly she raised her head to look into her father’s eyes. He was smiling with a surety Elsa had rarely seen. She smiled back, eyebrows raising as her expression broke into an uncertain smile. 

“The gloves will help,” he had said. The warmth of his voice was enough to wash away her uncertainty.  _ The gloves will help.  _ And then, Elsa felt an up-welling of emotion. The suddenness of it forced the wind out of her chest, and she could feel her eyes, glistening near to tears. Her father was trying to help her. He cared for her. He had so many other responsibilities, but he was still putting her first.

_ And he wasn’t afraid of her.  _

The King rested the box on his bent knee as he lifted a single glove up, and Elsa, who had been quite aware that her hands hand begun to permeate a chilling aura, was hesitant to extend her arm. If his bare hand touched her, she might-- but there wasn’t any time, he was already pulling the glove over her small hand. 

The fabric was beyond comforting. Warm and tight and solid. She became acutely aware of the feeling of her own fingers, the flexing of her wrist. And it worked. It calmed her. It did what her father said it would. And she was so thankful. Finally, something good. Finally, something that worked. Finally, a way out.

Finally, something would  _ change _ .

With a sudden realization, she spoke the words. “Conceal, don’t feel…” their mantra, repeated beyond counting, was so much more focused now. She looked down at her own gloved hand. It looked nothing like her own hand. Unfamiliar. Foreign. Different. She smiled, her eyes narrowing in pure delight. 

“Don’t let it show,” her father responded, completing the verse in finality. He was beaming, and Elsa realized that he wanted this just as much as she did. 

 

* * *

 

The hallways were dimly lit by a scant few candles as Elsa made her way, quietly and carefully, towards the kitchens. She rested her hand against one wall, trailing her fingers along it as she crept forward. 

Then, she came upon the suits of armor, lined up all in a row. She stopped, catching her reflection in the glistening mirror like surface of a closed visor. She pursed her lips, eyes narrowing as she pivoted, facing the armor so that she might take a tentative step forward. 

_ “These guys are HUGE!” _

_ Anna looked up at a suit of armor in awe. Elsa looked up too, a half-smile emerging. Anna could be so dramatic sometimes. But maybe, Elsa thought, as she took a closer look at the intricate, glinting steel, she wasn’t so wrong. Despite its purpose, armor was beautiful in a way that Elsa couldn’t quite put her finger on. _

_ Anna ran up to the suit of armor, hugging it at the knee. Elsa giggled and stepped forward, touching the heavy glove with one bare hand. _

Elsa, in candle-lit darkness, stepped forward, taking the knight’s gauntlet in one hand. Her gloved fingers entwined with thick, lifeless metallic ones.

_ “Can princesses wear armor?” It was such a pure question, but Elsa wasn’t sure how to respond. Could they? Elsa wasn’t so sure, but part of her didn’t want to just say no. Part of her wanted…  _

_ “I’m sure they can,” she said, the confidence in her own voice surprising her. Anna looked up at her with a big grin.  _

_ “Then  _ I’m  _ going to wear armor! I mean, not right now. But, when I get big like this guy!” _

The gauntlet in Elsa’s hand was cold. She knew that it would be cold, once she touched it. Still, it surprised her. She looked up at the visor. She was so much taller now. So much time had passed.

_ “I think that would ‘suit’ you,” Elsa said with a small laugh. And it did. Not that Anna would have any reason to wear it, but… Elsa thought that Anna in armor just seemed to make sense. _

Elsa’s grip on the gauntlet tightened slightly. She looked into the visor. Darkness, behind the slits where eyes would have been, stared back. Still, her lips parted.

“It does suit you,” she whispered. 


	3. Chapter 3

_Even if it meant never seeing another sunny day..._

The thought came first as a whisper. The power of it woke Elsa from a dreamless sleep. Her eyes snapped open; she was wide awake, staring at the ceiling as she heard the thought once more.

_Even if it meant never seeing another sunny day..._

The thought rose, slow and languid, from the embers of her mind. She tried to stay still as her fingers clutched at the bed sheets. Her breathing she kept as shallow as possible, as if she might have been able to hide from it. The unwanted thought, tearing it’s way into the forefront of her mind. As soon as it was gone, it came back again. Her own voice, growing in intensity each time it repeated. She raised her hands to her ears, knowing already that it wouldn’t help.

This wasn’t the first time Elsa had been unable to quiet her inner voice. It happened the same way every time. Out of nowhere, a thought would appear. The thought would startle her, and then she would hear it again. She had tried to explain it to her father, but… this was far too internal a problem, and besides, trying to talk while the thought invaded her senses was beyond difficult.

Elsa knew in her heart what this thought meant. She knew it without a doubt. The vicious surety of it frightened her. She could feel it. And it felt… good, to feel with such a sense of purpose a feeling so strong.

_Even if it meant never seeing another sunny day…_

The sun was blindingly bright, even with her curtains fully closed. It shone through. It hurt her eyes. She tried to close them, but that just made the voice louder. She sat up. She laid back down. She turned to her side. She held herself, one hand curling tightly around her elbow as she curled into a ball, staring at her locked door across the room.

“I’m bad.”

The troll was right. Her vision rang true. She had seen it all happen. The fearful eyes of Arendelle. Jagged ice ripping through the air. A cold wind. A white mountain. And a _monster_.

She would protect Anna from the monster.

Even if it meant never seeing another sunny day.

* * *

 

Everything was so much harder, after Anna lost her parents. Every negative feeling seemed to magnify. Every room in the castle was a painful reminder.

And still, even after _that_ , Elsa didn’t open the door.

Anna didn’t know what to think. She tried to tell herself that Elsa wanted this. Elsa had chosen this life without people. A life without _her_. She tried to believe that it was what Elsa wanted, if only for her own sake. If she could believe it was true, she thought she might finally be able to move on. But she knew, deep in her heart, that this couldn’t possibly be what her sister really wanted. So then, why? Why had she shut her out? And what was going on with her? Was she in trouble? Was she in pain? Anna realized that not knowing was so much worse.

If only she could talk to her. If only she could _see_ her. Just a moment together would surely erase all those years of pain that had come before.

Still. Time kept ticking by, and life moved on. Anna kept moving forward, if only because she couldn’t think of any other option. Sometimes, her days were just an unwelcome chore, and she wished with all her might to get lost in a memory or a daydream. To be taken away.

To escape.

She had her tutor’s assignment, sitting empty in front of her, and she kept glancing down and starting to write, but it was all a distraction from where her heart wanted to be. She couldn’t stop asking questions. She couldn’t stop thinking about what Elsa might be doing, _right now_ , only a hallway away.

There was only one remedy Anna had found. One feeling, one thought that was the shining light in her sea of darkness.

_Coronation Day._

If anything would cause change, it would be that. The day the gates would open. The day her sister would finally be forced out of hiding. It was so sickeningly bittersweet, that Coronation Day, the one day during which Anna would finally see her sister, was coming so much sooner than planned.

 

* * *

 

It was the dead of night, and Elsa had decided to take a trip outside her room. She was sure she hadn’t meant to stop at the library. She had taken a rather arbitrarily roundabout route towards her father’s study, and the library just seemed to appear within view without her realizing it. The halls were too dark to really see what was ahead of or behind her. She could only keep moving forward, gloved hand trailing against the wall.

She stepped inside the library, and it was like walking into another world. Even with the windows locked up, the moon still came in through the cracks, and with a single candle in her hand she lit the way, walking gingerly across the room. Rows of books lined every wall, and she hadn’t a memory for which section was which, after all these years.

Still, she found some small joy in just looking at the book’s spines. Reading the titles and taking in the smell of aged paper. It calmed her, and she took a deep breath in, letting her eyes slip closed as she just allowed herself to… exist.

She wondered where the children’s book section was. Surely Anna didn’t still have them. They were both too grown up for that, now. She smiled wistfully as she remembered reading to Anna in their room. Trying to read, at least. Anna liked to ask a lot of questions, and most of the time they would forget the book altogether.

As she scanned the shelves, something caught her eye. She walked forward, bending down so that she could lean closer. It was a red piece of cloth, sticking out from the middle of a book. Tilting her head slightly, she reached out for it.

It was a romance novel. The cover had an inscription of two roses, laying one atop the other. Elsa nearly rolled her eyes. Romance had never been her favorite genre. As she shifted the weight of the book in her hands, it fell open to the page marked by the cloth. Before she realized it, Elsa had begun to read the page.

It was a passage about the heroine’s struggle, her journey finally coming to an end. She had found a man who cared for her, and convinced him to stay before he left to do something drastic. Elsa pursed her lips, wondering in her heart why she was still bothering to scan the passage. There was something about climbing a metaphorical mountain, and at the top the heroine had found what she had been looking for...

True love

Those two words had been underlined. Elsa blinked. She stared at the words. She blinked again. She was absolutely sure she hadn’t ever read this book. And even if she had, she would never have done something so reckless as to write within it.

Which would mean…

Elsa closed the book as best she could with the fabric still inside and slid it quickly back into its place on the shelf. She had meant to leave, but she couldn’t help it as her gaze passed across the shelf once more. The books before her were all romance novels, and many of them had some form of bookmark, popping out through the pages. She couldn’t stop herself from picking another book at random and pulling it open to the marked page.

True love

The words were there again, marked with two lines this time instead of one.  Elsa slid her gloved fingers along the words. She imagined Anna, alone in the library.

This was what Anna wanted. This was what she was searching for. She didn’t have it now. And of course, Elsa could only blame herself.

“I’m sorry, Anna,” Elsa whispered achingly as she slid the book back into place and slammed her eyes shut. Her fingers resting upon the spine of the book as her shoulders shook with silent sobs.

 

* * *

 

Elsa stood quite still in her room, looking down at her trunk. The trunk was open, and rows upon rows of satin gloves filled almost the entire compartment.

“Coronation Day will be here soon,” she said, lifting her hand slightly as she tilted her head to look down at her old friend, Sir Bjorgenbjorn. The frazzled puffin plush doll stared back at her with one large button eye.

“I don’t want it to come either,” she replied, looking out the window. Winter had given way to spring, and spring had blossomed into summer. And soon, Coronation day would be upon her. She felt it, quite literally, like a weight in each hand.

_The weight of the scepter, and the weight of the globe. She had been practicing for that fated day almost every night. The day that she would prove to her Kingdom of Arendelle that she was just like any other Queen._

_Slowly, she removed her gloves. She steeled herself, taking one strong, deep breath in. Resting the instruments of royalty within her shaking hands. Then she waited.  Her father had told her everything about his own Coronation. What it would be like. How long it would take. She had spent years and years preparing. Now, her father, the painting of him on his own Coronation Day, hung on the wall before her. She looked up at it, her expression tightening as she felt frost begin to form at her fingertips._

“Not wanting something won’t stop it from happening, though,” Elsa spoke, smiling sadly as she lifted the doll and brought her other hand up to stroke at the three red hairs on top of his sewn-together head. “You know that as well as I.”

_She remembers the day she almost destroyed Sir Bjorgenbjorn. It had been a particularly bad day. She had needed to talk. Her mistake had been to trust herself enough to remove one of her gloves. The fabric of the toy was soft against her fingertips, but with her gloves on she couldn’t feel a thing. Sir Bjorgenbjorn had always been there for her, and so she reached for him. As her hand extended, a blast of magical ice shot forth, wrapping itself around her only remaining toy. She panicked, and knelt down, grabbing the blanket from her bed so she could wrap him within. She had been whispering, begging and pleading for him to be okay._

_After a while, the ice did melt. He’d lost an eye, and some stuffing had popped out in a few places. Elsa forced her gloves back on, inspecting him carefully, and sighed with relief when she verified that he would be okay._

_That day, she had made two decisions. One, she would only take off her gloves when absolutely necessary. Two, she would store Sir Bjorgenbjorn in her trunk so that she wouldn’t have the chance to hurt him._

_On one of those bleak, dark, numb days soon after she had heard the news of her parents deaths, she had opened the trunk once again. Her emotions had been on edge for days, and nothing seemed to calm her. Anna had only been to her door once since the news broke. There had been a wild moment when Elsa considered leaving her room, seeing Anna and ending her confinement once and for all. The moment, the dream, was heartrendingly brief. Instead, she opened the trunk. And from then on, the raggedy little puffin had made a permanent home on her pillow once more._

Sir Bjorgenbjorn’s cute face stared up at her.

“Well, I’m about as ready as I’m going to be,” she replied. “It’ll be fine. It’s just one day,” she murmured.

“Yes, Anna will be there too,” she nodded slightly as she walked across her room, putting a gloved hand to the windowsill as she stared out the window. She imagined what the front entrance would look like with those large wooden doors ajar. What it be like, for people to walk through the gate and across the inner courtyard? Would the castle feel very much different during the day?

Would Anna still want to talk to her?

And then, she felt it. A small ember of excitement, burning deep within. She had never really thought it through before, but how could she have forgotten? On Coronation Day, she would finally see Anna. Just for a day. Only one day. A fleeting moment; beautiful in its brevity.

She could feel tears coming. She closed her eyes and put her hand to the glass.


	4. Chapter 4

Is love enough? 

Is the act of loving someone, however dearly, truly enough to save them? 

Love.  _ True love.  _ How many times had Elsa thought the words? How long ago had she felt that warmth? She thought she knew the answer.

Her mother and father had loved her. She told herself this over and over again. But if they had loved her,  _ truly  _ loved her, then why had she become so wretched? Why had she lost herself to the tempest inside of her? Why had her heart gone so pale, and withered, and cold?

She felt the guilt tear into her rib cage; shanked by her own shame. Of course her parents had loved her. They had been there for her through all of it; supporting her as best they could. What kind of monster had she become, to tarnish their memory by doubting them? 

“Father, I’m…” Elsa’s shaking voice split the silence apart as she stood before his painting in his old study. Soon, this study would be hers. In only a few more hours, the gates would open. Coronation Day would proceed ever onward. She would step up upon the sacred platform. The scepter and the globe would be presented to her. All eyes would be upon her. She would take off her gloves, and…

“I can’t do this on my own,” she thought with an angry panic, nearly brought to tears as she felt the frost leaving her fingertips and forming upon the objects she grasped. 

_ Is there anything I can do? _

The last words Anna had said to her that morning echoed within Elsa’s mind.

Elsa had wanted to say so many things in response to Anna’s question. If only Elsa could have said something. If only she could be more reckless, but rules were rules for a reason. She wanted to scream, but she forced it back down, swallowing her despair as she heard Anna’s footsteps slowly fading in retreat.

Every time it happened, it was a trial. Every time she heard Anna’s pained voice. The sound of her hopeful knocks. Every time, it destroyed Elsa’s heart just a little more. And still, after it was over, she would open her eyes and raise her head and be thankful that she hadn’t given in.

The only thing she had been able to manage so far was keeping Anna safe. Elsa clung desperately to the knowledge that there was a silver lining to her isolation. She hadn’t hurt Anna again. There was a twisted self-satisfaction there, in her ability to stay so intensely focused on this one final task. Because even if she couldn’t control her powers, or hope to ever open up the gates for good, or be the Queen that Arendelle expected her to be… at least she could keep Anna safe. And soon, Anna wouldn’t need to stay on the castle grounds. She was coming of age; she would be allowed to travel. The gates would open for her, and she would go out into the world, enjoying the countryside and the sun. Thinking about it actually softened Elsa’s features, and she smiled as she imagined Anna wandering around the town, talking to strangers, making friends…

_ And I’ll still be here. Standing still. Looking out.  _

Her heart ached at the thought. She allowed herself escape within a daydream, if for the briefest of moments. She thought what it would be like if she could leave the castle with Anna, and walk out of those gates  _ together _ . There would be a warm breeze, coming in from the south. The trees would be green and full of life. The water in the bay would sparkle and shine, with gulls flying overhead. A sunny day, made for just the two of them. Nothing else would matter. Everything else would fade away behind the warm glow of Anna’s smile.

In the near darkness of her father’s study, Elsa dreamt of a thing she knew she could never have.

 

* * *

 

“How come you can do that and I can’t?”

Anna’s childish voice rang out through the ballroom. It was the middle of the night, and the two sisters had crept inside the grand hall for another bout of magical fun. It was, after all, one of the largest spaces in the entire castle. It had been Anna’s idea to go there so that they would have more room to play. Elsa much preferred the smaller spaces, where there would be less of a chance of being found out. 

_ Their parents had found out about the magic show in the fields at the summer house. They found out immediately, because Anna had told them. Elsa stood in mortified stillness as Anna, who was still covered in dirt from her tumble in the grass, ran up to the King and hugged him tight around the middle, nearly screaming the words. _

_ “Elsa can do magic!” _

_ Her parents both shot Elsa the same look. Surprise. Disappointment. She had seen those feelings on their faces before. But there was another expression that was, at that time, very new to her. _

_ Concern. _

_ Worry. _

Fear _. _

_ “I didn’t mean...” Elsa started, but Anna, who was absorbed completely in her own recounting of it, interrupted her to tell all the details.  _

_ The king and queen had the presence of mind to listen politely to Anna’s story, smiling and patting her on the head when she finished. It was only much later, after they had returned to the castle, that her parents had  _ the talk  _ with her. No magic around Anna, a rule that had once been unspoken, was now laid out before her. _

_ Elsa didn’t want to disobey them. She agreed resolutely that Anna was far too young and brash and excitable to be exposed to Elsa’s powers. Elsa had always been so restrained, before Anna. Magic had never been something she just did because she could. Her parents had entrusted her with this, and, like all her other responsibilities, she accepted it wholeheartedly. _

_ It was just… really hard to comply. _

_ It was difficult, in large part due to Anna being Anna. It was like her little sister knew exactly the right things to do and say to get Elsa to let go of her obligations. Anna made the very act of convincing Elsa to do magic part of the game, and Elsa just wasn’t strong enough to deny her. How could she, when doing magic around Anna made Elsa feel so… valid?  _

_ Anna’s fascination with Elsa was nothing like the goodnatured, patient smiles her parents had presented her with when she did her magic for them. Her parents loved Elsa for the little girl she was. But Anna, Anna loved Elsa for  _ everything _. Elsa longed for those moments when they could be alone together, cataloging each of Anna’s excited responses, playing over and over in her mind their exchanges, focusing her free time on coming up with something her sister hadn’t seen before.  _

_ And so, Elsa had gotten into the habit of giving in to Anna’s requests to play. And it was fun. She enjoyed it. It gave her power a reason to exist.  _

“I don’t know why you can’t do magic, but sometimes I wish you could,” Elsa replied, voice echoing in the enormous ballroom as she flicked her wrist, sending a sparkling flurry of ice and snow twisting upwards towards the ceiling. “We could have a snowball fight to end all snowball fights,” and at this, her lips curved upwards into an excited grin. 

Anna closed her eyes and raised her hands out to her sides.

“I wish I were magic,” she said with a strong, serious voice, as if saying it so solemnly would make it come true. 

_ Oh, but you  _ are _ , Anna.  _ Elsa had thought then, but instead, she said, “Did it work?”

Anna shot her hand out, flicking her wrist like her older sister had done. Her eyes are alight, but when she realized nothing has happened her expression dropped.

“I guess not…”

“Well, don’t worry,” Elsa consoled as she closed her hands, forming a small ball of snow within them, “I have enough magic for the both of us.”

 

* * *

 

Elsa didn’t want to return to the ballroom. She hadn’t been there since that fateful night, and she had never thought of going back. The memories of what she had done to Anna, even after all those years, seemed as freshly painful as if it had just happened yesterday. And as she stepped inside and looked around at the crowd, all she could see was that empty, icy spot in the middle, and she realized with a pang of sadness that she hadn’t healed at all. 

She should have gone back to her room, right then and there. She should have put the scepter and the globe, only slightly icy, back upon their place and away, closing herself off all over again. 

If she had only been able to pull herself away. 

But how could she, with Anna so very close? 

_ Just this once. One final time. And then… back in the cage. _

She must have let her elation at making it through the Coronation get to her head. How could she have made such a horrible error, otherwise? She had always been so calculating before, but now, with such a heavy weight lifted off of her, it was almost like she had a new lease on her own life. It was almost like she was finally in control.

_ It’s only for today.  _

She wanted to see her sister. To finally talk to her. To stand without anything between them. She wanted it more than anything. Maybe things  _ could  _ change. There was always some small chance, right?

It had been such a critical mistake, to think that she could see Anna without consequence. The monster within had supplied a false sense of security, and Elsa, heady on her own personal victory, made a decision that, for once, hadn’t been entirely based on fear. A decision to stand beside Anna. To listen to her. To open up to her. 

A mistake.

The jagged shards of ice, spiking up beyond her outstretched hand.

A failure.

The fearfully wide eyes of the crowd. 

A monster.

Finally, the prophecy had come true. Her heart broke all over again at the thought of Anna seeing her like  _ this _ . Yet somewhere deep inside, she thought that it was only right for Anna to see this side of her. The  _ real  _ her.

_ “What do you know about true love?” _

Elsa had asked Anna that question, voice shaking, as Anna requested her permission to marry a man she had only just met.  _ True love.  _ Of course Anna didn’t know about true love. How could she, when Elsa had burdened her life, stifling the beautiful, courageous person she once was? 

_ “More than you. All you know is how to shut people out.” _

And that’s when it hit her. Everything Elsa had done. All those minutes, and hours, and days, and years of sealing herself away, obeying all her rules, and enduring the life she had chosen. All those times she had to hold a hand over her mouth to keep herself from responding to Anna’s appeals from the other side of the door. All those moments she had pushed her parents away, lest she allow them to persuade her to veer off her path. All those empty, frost-shrouded nights alone. It had all been for Anna.

And Anna didn’t even know. 

What would she have given then, to tell her? In front of the entire ballroom, the people, and Anna’s very sudden fiance. She could feel the words forming on her lips.

_ I did it for you. To protect you.  _

_ You see, there’s something wrong with me. I’m not the person you think I am.  _

If only she could say those words. If only she could make Anna understand  _ why _ .

Of course, it all changed when Anna snatched the glove. 

In an instant, everything changed. 


	5. Chapter 5

The King and Queen of Arendelle had sequestered themselves within their bedroom. It was one of the few places where they could be truly alone. King Agnarr stood with his arms crossed over his broad chest. He was staring into the fire, and the glow of it reflected in his eyes. His stance was closed off. Resolute. Almost statuesque.

Queen Iduna looked much more permeable, wavering in her expression and posture. She ran a hand along her hair, fingertips glancing along the intricate braid at the top. There was pain in her eyes.

“I’m worried about her, that’s all I’m trying to say.” She paused, taking a tentative step closer to her husband. “It’s too much for her.”

Agnarr said nothing, his crossed arms tightening ever so slightly.

Iduna pressed on, continuing as she approached ever closer. “You’ve seen her, haven’t you? She’s not eating. She’s not sleeping. She’s...”

“I’ve seen her,” Agnarr interjected, halting Iduna’s words. Iduna paused, expecting him to say more. But he doesn’t. She took another step, reaching out to grasp his strong shoulder.

“Then why are we still talking about this? We should go right now. _Tonight_. She’ll be awake. We can wake Anna. We can--”

“Iduna.”

Iduna stopped in her tracks. Confusion and concern tinged her features as stared at him questioningly. He turned his head to return her gaze.

“Are you really prepared for what might happen, if we open up that door?” Agnarr’s words pierced the room with a quiet darkness that draped itself upon the both of them.

“What are you saying?” Iduna whispered, horrified by her own husband’s tone.

“We almost lost one of them, that night. That was before. That was when she could _almost_ control it. Now it’s getting stronger, and she’s so weak. What if…”

Iduna stayed silent as the thought played through her head. It broke her. Her eyes dropped, and her head hung low. She let out one shaking breath. Agnarr continued.

“Elsa said it herself. The door needs to stay closed, until she can control it. Of all of us, wouldn’t she know what’s best?”

“That’s not how it’s supposed to work,” Iduna said tearfully, shaking her head at the thought of how poorly this had all played out thus far.

“Of course it isn’t, but can you imagine what she would do if we told her your plan?” Agnarr took the last few steps, closing the gap between them; his voice low.

“If she learned, after _all these years_ , that all of her effort spent on this goal was for _nothing_? I’ve played it through my head, Iduna. Over, and over, and over. In so many different ways.” His voice shook. Iduna raised her eyes. She saw it then, that man she had grown to love so dearly. He was there, frightened and unsure, but he was there all the same. She reached a hand to take his own. Their fingers intertwining.

He looked her in the eyes. “She would think we had given up on her.” He squeezed Iduna’s hand tightly. “I don’t want her to lose what little hope she has left.”

Iduna’s silence spread across the room, dissipating as she took a deep breath in.

“So then, we just… keep going?”

“We keep going, _for Elsa_ . If we believe in her, and support her, and _love_ her… all will be well, in the end.”

Iduna rested her head upon his chest and closed her eyes.

“God, I hope you’re right.”

 

* * *

 

“Does Elsa ever leave her room?”

Anna stood at the side of her father’s reading chair in the family den. She was looking up at him, waiting patiently for a response. In her hands she held her two dolls. They were a little worse for wear at this point, as she had opted to bring them everywhere and refused to have them washed.

Her father turned his head, returning her gaze and giving her a small smile. Anna’s questions were starting to vary, skirting around the edges of the _one question_ she hadn’t quite given up on yet. She was starting to show a cleverness Agnarr had noticed in Elsa. His smile grew, and he spoke.

“Sometimes.”

“When?” Anna asked immediately, almost before her father had been able to finish speaking.

“I’m not certain,” and that was true. It had only just started, but Elsa had begun to sleep during the day and endeavor to move about the castle in the dead of night. Elsa had a very well thought out and masterfully articulated reason for this, and he hadn’t had the heart to argue.

“Where does she go?” Anna’s next question, so obviously painting her own plan of trying to catch Elsa out of her room, made her father smile, but now a tinge of sadness crept in.

“All over, really. This castle is as much hers as it is ours, after all.”

“Does she go outside?”

“Not by herself,” and at that, the King had made a small omission, in part due to making sure that he kept Anna focused on staying in the castle. In truth, he knew that Elsa refused to go outside. What had she said, then? _I’m afraid of what might happen, if I felt the warmth of the sun._

“If someone’s with her, she’ll go outside?” Anna said, kind blue eyes narrowing as the cogs of her small mind began to work out her options. She had known how much Elsa liked being outside, playing in the snow. That’s all they had ever done together, before...

“Yes, that’s right. It’s dangerous to go outside alone.”

“So, if I’m with her, then…” Anna’s voice trailed off. She was really thinking this one through.

“Anna,” her father said, and hearing her own name caused her to snap her head back up to look at him.

“Yes, papa?”

“When Elsa is ready, she’ll come out.”

“She… will?” This had been the most that anyone had told her thus far about Elsa’s sudden departure. She crept closer, putting a hand on the arm of her father’s reading chair.

“She will.” Agnarr replied, trying to ignore the lump he could feel forming in his throat.

“Will that be tomorrow?”

“Probably not tomorrow.”

“The day after that?”

“It might take a while.”

“A while,” Anna repeated, sadly.

“A while. But when she does come back, she’ll be so happy to see you. So it’ll be worth the wait, don’t you think?” Agnarr shut out his own feelings. Concealing his own regret for having to play a part in this tragic affair of keeping his daughters apart. How had it come to this? If anyone were at fault, he could only blame himself.

“Definitely worth it!” Anna replied, parroting her father’s words as a big smile appeared on her face.

 

* * *

 

 

It was Christmas.

Anna loved the _idea_ of Christmas.

She had read about it in so many of her books. The different ways it was celebrated, all the different kinds of foods, and desserts, and decorations that would be employed. She really couldn’t get enough of it, and she had even started a small Christmas-themed section in the library.

_There had been a time, back before Elsa disengaged with the world around her, that Anna could remember everyone being together, out in the castle’s courtyard, preparing to ring in the season with the sound of the Yule Bell. She was in her mother’s arms, and standing down at her parent’s feet was Elsa. Her sister’s small hands reached up to grab the end of the Yule Bell’s thick rope. Anna watched her with excitement, as the bell rung, echoing out into the mountains, and all she could think was how her big sister was so cool._

Christmas meant something else, too.

It was the one time that Anna knew she could give Elsa a present.

She had tried so many different ways to communicate with Elsa over the years. In her childhood, she had scrawled hastily written letters in colored ink. Mostly misspelled, and mostly silly, like just the words ‘COEM OUT’ with a smiley face.

As Anna grew older, her tactics changed. Instead of comedy, she had tried writing an actual letter to her big sister. She wasn’t the best writer, despite all her reading, but that didn’t stop her from trying. And then, finally, she had stopped writing altogether, opting to slide simple reminders of her presence beneath the space of the door. A fallen leaf in beautiful shades of orange and brown. A pressed sunflower, brilliant yellow and black.

But all of it, no matter what she had tried, was slid back outside. Back to her.

It usually didn’t happen right away.

Sometimes, a day would pass, and Anna would come round the hall the next morning and see her letter laying upon the ground.

Anna wasn’t sure what kind of strange masochistic spark drove her to keep trying, year after year. It was almost like just the making of these gifts and correspondences was part of it for her. At least she could say she was trying. At least she could still say that maybe this time, things would be different.

But on Christmas, Anna knew, without a doubt, that Elsa would accept her gift.

The first one had started as her mother’s idea. It was the first Christmas without Elsa. The first Christmas that Anna could really remember at all, and… it was largely uneventful. They had a quiet dinner, like on most days. Gifts had been exchanged. Anna assumed that Christmas must not be that big of a deal.

“What about Elsa?” Anna had said, unwrapped present in her hands.

Her parents looked at each other, and her father opened his mouth, but her mother spoke first.

“I’m sure she’d like something from you, Anna. Why don’t you try?”

And that had been enough. Anna set off to her room, pulling out her coloring tools and a roll of paper. She spent almost the entire day, restarting twice because of major mistakes. By the end of it, she had something she actually liked. Something she knew Elsa would like, too.

A little snowman. Just like the ones they used to build together.

She had slid the drawing beneath the door, and whispered “Merry Christmas, Elsa!” with uncontrollable excitement. And for the first time, Elsa had kept it. Elsa had kept Anna’s Christmas gift.

And so, it became a tradition.

 _Someday,_ Anna had thought. _Someday I’ll get to watch her open a present._

As Kristoff guided Anna’s gaze up to her destination, the snow-covered North Mountain, she couldn’t help but think back to her promise. A promise she had made to herself, to finally make things right between the two of them. Now she knew _why_. Now, she finally had a chance to help her. Now, the only thing between the two of them was a mountain.

And mountains weren’t so tough.

 

* * *

 

When everything changed, Elsa felt, for the first time in her life, the rush of triumph. She had figured it all out. Distance was the answer. Isolation had always been the solution; she had just needed it at a larger scale. Now, she could be herself, fully and truly herself, without worry or fear. Because how would she be able to hurt Anna, or anyone, at the peak of the North Mountain?

Going further than ever before. Testing her limits. Breaking all her rules. God, it felt so good. Her carefully constructed castle was a testament to that. It was her masterwork. It was her redemption. It was everything she had ever wanted her magic to be, and now she would live there, in a place that she could truly be free.

Her ice palace was her crowning achievement.

Her ice palace was a beautiful cage.

Her ice palace was a glimmering tomb.

“This is the answer,” she whispered resolutely at her own reflection as she sat upon the floor of the castle balcony, in her elegant new dress. Her reflection looked back at her, unfeelingly.

 _You’ve never been more alone._ Elsa’s reflection smiled back at her, her eyes were cold and dark.

“This is the only way.”

_This is just what you deserve._

“I won’t hurt her anymore.”

_You won’t see her ever again._

“But...I’m finally free.”

_Free to be a monster._


	6. Chapter 6

Hunting monsters had been Anna’s idea.

Elsa had tried in vain to convince Anna that there were no monsters in the castle, but her sister was old enough now to have opinions of her own, and besides, Anna had read all the fairy tale stories ten times over. There were _definitely_ monsters.

Elsa hadn’t really liked having yet another reason to sneak out of their room at night, but when Anna threatened to go out alone instead, well, that settled things. Elsa was only then beginning to realize how often she went along with Anna’s plans, and she resolved to at least _try_ to act more like an older sister, whatever that meant.

“So, how are we even going to do this?” Elsa asked in a curious whisper as Anna led them out into the hall. Anna looked around, her usually wide blue eyes narrowing in mock concentration. She was really laying it on thick, and Elsa couldn’t help but smile.

“First, we find a monster,” Anna’s whispered reply came as she started to move, crouched low like a huntsman deep within the forest. Elsa giggled and followed her. “And then, we kill it.”

“Can’t we just… tell it to go away?” Elsa offers jokingly as she follows a very serious Anna down the hall.

The door to their father’s study was closed. Anna crept forward and put her hand on the handle. Elsa realized she had been holding her breath, but as Anna opened the door Elsa peered inside the room and her tensed shoulders relaxed fractionally.

“It’s empty,” she whispered, tilting her head slightly.

“The monster might be hiding,” Anna whispered in hushed tones as she stood before the entrance to the darkened room. The curtains were drawn wide, and the light of the full moon shone in through the window, casting a luminous pale light on the long wooden desk and empty stone fireplace.

It was strange, of course. Elsa couldn’t help but find it remarkable that Anna wasn’t afraid. She was younger. She really _believed_ there might be a monster. And yet, she wasn’t afraid. Even though she wasn’t the one with magical powers, she wasn’t afraid at all.

 

* * *

 

_I’m afraid of what might happen, if I felt the warmth of the sun._

Elsa thinks back to the first time she let those words escape her lips. She remembers the way her father looked at her, his emotions buried beneath the weight of regret and the burden of fear. The distance between them, a few meters at most, might as well have been miles. Oh, how she had wished for distance, then. How she had wished, with shaking fingers pressed against the frosted glass, for space. The horizon taunted her. A singular point, so far away and yet so close to the warmth of the sun. Always standing still.

Now, she had what she had wished for. A final resting place. A place to be free. A weightless, empty feeling flashed up through her. The tethers of the past, buckled and broken, fell freely down, and down, and down the mountain’s edge. She had forged a new way for herself within the ice.

But for all that, she couldn’t stop thinking about Anna.

She wondered if Anna was looking for her. It set her heart spiraling into her throat. Would Anna try to find her? It was a fool’s errand. It was dangerous. It was reckless and extreme. Why would she go through the trouble?

_Because she’s Anna._

Elsa paced back and forth along her castle’s inner chamber. Anna would be looking for her, and then what? She would either find her, or die trying. Why couldn’t she just... give up?

_Because she’s Anna._

Elsa wrapped her arms around her shoulders, forcing her gaze away from the reflections of herself in the bluish-red ice of the surrounding walls. She didn’t want to see her own face anymore. She wanted to see…

A familiar knock came at the castle’s tall front door.

“Anna...”

 

* * *

 

After that, everything had gone to hell.

Elsa smiled bitterly, blinking to quell impending tears as she looked out the small window within the dungeon of Arendelle’s castle.

_Eternal winter._

_Everywhere._

Elsa slammed her eyes shut. She could feel the frost exploding from behind the metal enclosures around her hands. The magic-proofed material had been bound too tightly. She could feel the skin at her wrists, torn and raw, and she sucked in a deep breath, trying not to move or be moved by the vicious storm within her own mind.

“I can’t…” she whispered, barely audible over the white howling winds beyond the walls. A strand of her hair fell into her eyes and she tried to move it back into place with a shake of her head.

Beyond hopeless. She had failed on every level. Her uncontrollable curse was ripping the world asunder. She had used her powers to fight. And Anna. She had…

“Damn it,” she sobbed, clutching her fists tightly within their confines, digging her nails into the palms of her hands as another torrential shock of power eclipsed all thought, and the blizzard grew darker and colder and deeper in the world beyond.

She realized then that she should have done what she had considered, back on the ice palace balcony at the top of the North Mountain. She had always been there, at the edge of the abyss. The black void below her feet was such a familiar sight, and every day looking down into the vast, unknowable emptiness of it had become habitual. She had always imagined a pair of gulls, flying overhead, and she had watched with something so close to longing. But the abyss didn’t disappear. It was still there.

_We can face this thing together._

Elsa shook her head. She didn't deserve to hear her sister’s voice, after everything she had done. And yet, Anna’s voice won’t let go of her frozen heart.

_I'm not afraid._

Elsa opened her eyes slowly. Resolve set in like the blazing heat of a summer’s day. She could breathe again. She had to keep breathing. She couldn't  _stop_ breathing.  She was going to fix this. She was going to find a way to make things right again.

If not for herself, then for Anna.

 

* * *

 

Ice coursed through Anna’s veins, tearing through her blood like an iceflare, sparkling and exploding upon her skin like fireworks of blue frost, crawling upwards and outwards, along her arms, and to the tips of her shaking fingers.

It was, somehow.. strangely familiar, this feeling. Anna couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it was something that she wasn’t unused to. It was like seeing something you’ve only ever seen before in dreams, made real, but the dream is still there, waiting in the wings, and you feel like if you close your eyes it might disappear completely, but the feeling would still remain.

Anna felt warm, and part of her knew that was not a good sign. Her heart was pumping wildly as she stumbled through the storm. The deadly, raging blizzard. The dark, unbearable whirlwind of cold.

Was this… Elsa?

“No,” Anna forced the words out. “This isn’t Elsa.” And she has to tell herself that, if only to continue on. How might her legs have faltered, and her knees given out, had she allowed herself to accept that all those years, those painful, long, lonely years, Elsa had kept this terrible storm buried within? Elsa, her older sister, had been suffering, and Anna had been agonizingly oblivious.

Anna, naivety bordering on ignorant cruelty, had never known. She never would have guessed. She had denied the thought. Elsa, unhappy? Elsa, truly alone? Of course not. Not that girl, from her childhood, who would smile to herself as she rolled a snowball between her two hands. The knocking at Elsa’s closed door, begging to build a snowman through the keyhole, all those hastily scrawled letters. It all seemed so childish now.

 _What can you do, to help_ me _?_

Anna squints against near-freezing tears. Kristoff would be here soon, Anna was sure of it. Kristoff, her knight in shining armor. He loved her, and _love would thaw_. Wasn’t that what all the books had said? A happy ending was just around the corner. Finally, all these feelings she had in her heart could mean something to someone. All she had to do was--

The sound of the blade was piercing. It disrupted all thought, and Anna stumbled as she turned in the sound’s direction.

If she were being honest, she would realize in time that there hadn’t been much to think about. There was no time to ruminate on her options; to contemplate on what it would mean to do one thing, or the other. To act, or to wait. To hold on, or let go. To love, or be loved. None of that seemed to matter.

What mattered…

What _really_ mattered...

“Elsa…?”


	7. Epilogue

_Later, I would realize we had both been searching. Standing sentry. Watching idly as life kept going. Waiting, hoping and dreaming for that special thing that had been missing for far too long. Searching for meaning in the torn up tatters of our lives. Salvaging memories and moments together into something worth holding on to. Something we could desperately cling to, in times of need. Alone, and silently suffering, the harsh weight of the world borne without question._

_We had each been given a life meant to be accepted for what it was. A life meant to be endured._

_And then, as if by some miracle, I found you again, after all those years. Awoken from a deep slumber to open my eyes and see you in the light of day._

_As I finally allowed myself to feel the warmth of the sun, I realized that I was not alone, and that I had never been alone in the first place._

 

* * *

 

“It’s snowing!”

Anna’s voice erupts and laughter follows as she bolts out of bed, flinging the covers to the floor as she swings her legs down onto the rug. She dresses in a matter of moments, and then she’s off.

It was the first snowy day since the great thaw. Winter’s first snowfall. Anna would be lying if she said she hadn’t been waiting with bated breath for this day to finally arrive, and now that it was here she could hardly contain her excitement as she burst from her room and tore down the hallway.

As her legs carry her around a corner, Anna vaguely wonders if Elsa is already awake. She had been busy lately, and mornings were something Elsa seemed to cherish.

_There’s something beautiful, about the way the sun climbs up over the horizon._

Elsa’s words play in Anna’s mind, glimmering in her thoughts like precious jewels; sparkling like the ice sculptures in the castle courtyard. Anna can’t help but hope that Elsa will have some spare time to spend with her.

As she turns another corner, she very nearly slams straight into her sister. She manages to catch herself, coming to a sudden halt before her. Elsa’s blue eyes widen, and the cloak she had been carrying falls from her hands as she lets out a small, startled gasp.

“Anna--!”

“Whoa--hey!” Anna gasps as she pulls back. Before she has another moment to spare, she says the words she had been wanting to say to her sister since the moment she had woken up, and since so much longer than that.

“It’s snowing-!”

“It’s snowing-”

Anna grins broadly as she hears Elsa’s voice, echoing her own by less than a second.

Elsa gives a short laugh, realizing they had said the same thing. She drops her gaze as she bends to pick up the cloak at her feet, and then extends it in Anna’s direction. It’s such a mundane moment, and yet it still makes Anna realize just how much she had missed the little things; those briefest of instants where she was just… Elsa.

“I thought it might be nice to go outside,” Elsa says, smiling brightly as she sees Anna’s head nodding up and down with uncontrolled enthusiasm.

 

* * *

 

They go for a long walk, out past the gates and onto the docks. The fishing boats have all left for the day, so the view of the fjord is clear and expansive.

Elsa stands on the wooden dock, head tilted back and slightly upwards. Her eyes are closed, and she feels the warmth of the sun against her skin. A beautiful, sunny winter day. Snowflakes floating gently past. She lets out a deep breathe. Nothing could be more perfect.

She opens her eyes and looks out across the fjord. The sun shines brightly against the sparkling blue water. A pair of gulls fly overhead. Elsa looks up to watch as the wind carries them off into the distance. She smiles as she feels the tears coming.

“Elsa…” Anna takes a step closer, resting a tender hand on Elsa’s shoulder. “You okay?”

“Yes,” Elsa replies simply, letting the emotions take her, riding them out across the wind and the waves; feeling and accepting them.

“It’s just, I never thought this could happen,” Elsa responds quietly, after a moment. Anna squeezes her shoulder gently.

“Neither did I,” her younger sister replies. “But I’m glad it did.”

Anna pauses, and then continues. “Everything is so clear now. So _bright_. It’s like… I don’t know, I can’t put it into words.” She smiles lopsidedly, brows raising in a sheepish apology as she feels herself ruining the moment.

“No, I know what you mean,” Elsa says reassuringly, turning her head to smile back. “I feel it, too.”

It’s another quiet moment, after that. Slowly, Anna’s hand leaves Elsa’s shoulder, and they both watch the gentle waves of the ocean sparkling in the distance.

“Christmas is just around the corner,” Anna starts as she raises her head to look up at a bunch of funny-shaped clouds. Then, as she feels snowflakes falling on her cheeks, she opens her mouth, sticking out her tongue to try to taste one.

Elsa can’t help but giggle at the sight. “But your birthday is coming before that!”

“Oh, yeah! My birthday! What do you want to do? We could, uh, hike up into the mountains-- actually, no. That’s not great, is it.” Anna rambles, raising a hand up to scratch behind her head as her freckled cheeks and neck flush slightly red. “I mean, do you have any ideas?”

“Oh, we’ll probably just spend a quiet day alone in the castle,” Elsa says coolly, watching Anna’s face for a reaction. Her eyebrows raise when she sees Anna start to grin.

“I’d like that actually,” Anna replies. “Are we still allowed to turn the whole castle into a winter wonderland?”

Elsa tilts her head to one side, “Well, we weren’t _technically_ allowed to, when we were kids. But, being a Queen has its... benefits.” A small smirk forms on her lips, growing wider as Anna’s eyes light up with delight.

“I’m so happy for you, Elsa,” Anna says then, as she glances down to Elsa’s ungloved hands for a moment. “You’re finally free. Free to share your magic with the world.”

And though she couldn’t deny the feeling of elation at hearing, all over again, the sound of the adoration in her sister’s voice, this time Elsa could feel something deeper. It was something that had always been there. An ember, sitting beneath her heart. She wanted Anna to know that it was _because of her_ that Elsa felt special at all.

She took a step closer, reaching for one of Anna’s hands and resting it between the two of her own.

“The magic one is _you_ ,” she replies with a quiet determination that almost surprises her. She searches Anna’s expression for a reaction; a realization. Anna doesn’t shake her head, nor does she look away. She doesn’t deny it at all. All Anna does is steadily return Elsa’s gaze as she squeezes her sister’s hand.

Elsa pulls away then, closing her fingers as her eyes narrow gently in concentration. She runs her other free hand across her closed fist, and then, as her fingers open, Anna leans forward to get a better look at what Elsa had just created.

It’s a single flower made from layers of thin, malleable blue and white ice stitched together with delicate patterns of frost. Anna recognizes immediately that it’s the same type of flower she had picked with Elsa, for their mother, that one day in summer all those years ago.

“Wow,” Anna breathes, and Elsa smiles as she lifts the flower up to tuck behind Anna’s ear.

 

* * *

 

They spend the remainder of the day outside the castle’s gates. As the sun draws itself down towards the western edge of the world, the sisters watch the fishing boats coming back from their travels before they return to the castle.

“I’m surprised you had the whole day to spend,” Anna remarks, taking a sip of her hot chocolate as she sits on an armchair she has pulled up to the fireplace in the study, which Elsa had converted into a sitting room that they could both share. “I mean, I’m glad you did! It’s just, you’ve been really busy! It’s like, who thought being a Queen would be so much work, right?”

Elsa says nothing for a moment as she takes a small sip of her own hot chocolate. She’s sitting in her own armchair, pulled next to Anna’s so that they’re practically sitting side by side. She looks into the fire.

“Well,” Elsa starts hesitantly, “I knew it would be snowing today,” she finishes. Anna tilts her head, turning to look at her sister as confusion paints Anna’s features.

“Really? Is that… a thing” Anna looks up for a moment as she thinks, “Like, because you can make magical snow, you know when it’s _going_ to snow?”

“It’s more like,” Elsa pauses again, trying to find the words, “Because I can make snow, I can _make it snow_.” Her cheeks are tinged pink now, and she lifts the cocoa mug up to her lips as if to hide behind it. “I know it was selfish--”

Anna cuts her off with a loud burst of laughter.

“Elsa!” She cries out, nearly dropping her hot chocolate as she jumps out of her chair. “That’s… AMAZING!” She laughs again, “I had no idea. Like, wow. You coulda fooled me. I mean, not that your snow isn’t real snow or anything, it’s just--”

“No, Anna. It… it was wrong. I shouldn’t have--”

“But why not? Everyone in town loved it! Remember the kids having that snowball fight? Their day woulda been super boring, if it wasn’t for you.”

Elsa looks at her, her beautiful, deep blue eyes nearly tearful, but wide with hope as she listens to Anna’s words.

“Mine, too,” Anna adds, “My day wouldn’t have been as bright, either.” Her voice goes more serious now, softening as it deepens. “This is what your magic is _for_.”

Elsa remembers then, that ever-present question. A question she had been trying to answer for years. A question she had almost found the answer to, and then lost, dropping from her closed fists like water falling out of the cracks of her fingers. A question she had all but given up on.

A question that Anna had just answered, in finality, and an answer that Elsa couldn’t refute or deny.

 _This_ was what we magic was for.

“How do you keep doing this?” Elsa asks tearfully, smilingly, as she closes her eyes for a moment and the feelings overwhelm her.

Anna tilts her head. She’s still standing in front of the fire, but now she goes back to sit at her chair, leaning forward on the arm of it so that she’s looking closely at Elsa’s face.

“Doing what?”

“Being… you,” Elsa replies, feeling silly about her choice of words as soon as they leave her lips. But, how else could she describe it?  

“You saved me, Anna,” she says then, surprising herself with her earnesty, and the gravity of her voice. “I keep asking.. Why? Why did you go through all the trouble. Even though I know the answer, I--”

“I’d do it again,” Anna’s voice is resolute, a resoundingly simple response that startles Elsa to the point of her throat nearly closing up.

Elsa looks at her, and Anna stares back. It’s a far more serious Anna than Elsa is used to seeing. The fireplace flames flicker in the bright teal of her eyes. The strength of her gaze touches Elsa more deeply that the warmth of the fire. She takes a deep breath in, and then sighs, relaxing, as the feeling of Anna’s words drapes upon her like a blanket.

“I _know_ ,” Elsa whispers peacefully as she sets her hot chocolate on the table beside her.

Elsa feels a tingling warmth, and it’s not long before she drifts off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

For what monstrous nightmare would rear its ugly head, now that she wasn’t afraid anymore?

And what _dream_ could come, now that her one and only dream had come to light?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.


End file.
